


Not Much

by ktbl



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Kinktober 2020, Lingerie, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, post Zero Hour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:48:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27113551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktbl/pseuds/ktbl
Summary: Sometimes what's most appealing is not much at all: Angela gets something small and slinky, and Genji finds he enjoys and appreciates the smaller things in life. Sometimes more is not always what's needed - satin, lace, and see-through netting can do wonders.--Kinktober 2020 Day 20, prompt: lingerie
Relationships: Genji Shimada/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Kudos: 53
Collections: Kinktober 2020





	Not Much

The door snicks shut behind him, and Genji closes his eyes and exhales, a long and controlled sound that fills the empty room. He has had a damn mess of a day, and he is exhausted. The haphazard reconstruction of Overwatch, the mess of a mass of personalities that is the Gibraltar base… all of it is overwhelming when he has spent so long in Nepal, settling himself and his mind. He removes his visor, the faint hiss of air at the release. He unfastens the catches to the bottom portion of the helm, unsealing it as well, and takes a deep breath in.

Their room smells like oranges and tea and cold, crisp air. He opens his eyes, and sees no sign of Angela in the small space; the rooms on Gibraltar are small, enough for one person and their necessities, but he and Angela have wrangled for a larger space, and it’s barely enough for the two of them, but no one else cared enough to fight for the room so close to the hangar - and the medbay. There’s more foot traffic and ambient noise than almost anyone else is willing to put up with, but they have paired up so closely now no one seems to want to split them apart.

It’s a good thing, too - Angela would take his katana and skewer the first person to suggest it.

“Angela? Are you here?”

“Just a minute,” he hears from the small bathroom. He can tell she’s been run ragged as much as he has; her voice doesn’t have the same cheerful tone as it usually does. Genji drops his mask parts on the small desk by the door, rolling his head around on his neck. He sheds his hoodie, hanging it up neatly on a hook, and his katanas follow to rest on a rack on the wall.

“Has it been as long a day for you as for me?”

“Long enough. I have left a message that I am not to be disturbed tonight unless there’s a major intervention required.” Her voice carries through the door, sounding a little annoyed, and Genji chuckles, shedding his shoes. There’s a moment where he considers stripping off his joggers as well, but he has come to terms with his body - come to realize the cybernetics _are_ his body, and while he loves Angela dearly, he is not going to go metaphorically naked in their small space immediately. Years ago, it would have been different, when he still thought of all of this as armor covering his body, instead of being his body. Perspective has changed over time, thanks to Zenyatta and the Shambali. Now, he drops backward onto the bed, spread-eagled and half-dressed, and closes his eyes, taking deep and measured breaths. The bed smells like her, oranges and coffee and faintly antiseptic. He hears the bathroom door open, and cracks one eye, looking sidelong.

His breath catches in his chest.

She is dressed, but barely, in a sheer black thing that ties between her breasts and a lacy black pair of underwear he’s never seen before. If he’s very generous with the definition he might call what it a nightgown, but it would be very generous indeed. Her breasts are covered in dark pink satin covered with black lace, a matching pink ribbon tying the two sides together. It hangs open to her hips, revealing the expanse of pale skin, framed in sheer black net. The panties have the same black lace and pink satin, cut high on her hips and low everywhere else. There is virtually nothing left to the imagination, except for the most tantalizing bits. Genji sits up, finding the ability to breathe again.

“Have I died?”

“No,” Angela says with a smile, blonde hair short at her chin, as she walks towards him. “I just though it might be something nice. Lena said you’d had a long day, as I was getting ready to leave. I thought we might have a little fun.” She steps in front of Genji, and does a little spin, and he finds it hard to swallow all of a sudden. Every bit of her looks beautiful, and the fact that his girlfriend looks like a lingerie model suddenly makes his day better.

“Remind me to tell Lena thank you,” he says, reaching for her greedily. Angela takes a hop-step back, just out of reach, and the ends of the nightgown spin and flutter. He could grab them with his speed, but this isn’t a fight; he doesn’t need to exert himself. She spins again and his eyes drink her in, the way the fabric barely hides her body, the round swells of her breasts held just out of reach, hidden behind lace and satin. She steps forward, and he is grateful he didn’t take off his joggers; it’s another layer of fabric between her and him, and he is desperate already to lose himself in her.

“What do you think of it, Genji?”

“It’s a good thing I didn’t know you had this somewhere or I would be asking you to wear it all the time.” He grins at her, and she smiles brightly at him, settling herself on his lap and tucking her head into the side of his neck. He wraps his arms around her, and experimentally rubs the fabric between his fingertips. It’s just enough that he can feel it, even on the synthetic pads of his fingers. He feels blood begin to head southward, the stirrings of desire. Today’s been bad, but coming back to this makes it all worthwhile.

“I made sure it would be something you could pick up.” Angela grins, eyes bright, and she kisses the corner of his mouth. “If I was going to have something all over me, I wanted to ensure that it would be something you could enjoy.”

He rubs his fingers along the sheer net again, and then lets them slowly brush across her breasts, picking up the rougher lace, the difference in texture with the small pockets of pink satin beneath it. He enjoys the difference beneath his fingers; it’s warmed by her body, the satin slick and smooth and the lace a little heavier and rougher. Her breasts fill the cups out perfectly, and he reaches to pull the ribbon and free them, but Angela pushes his hand away.

“Not yet.” Her voice has that professional, admonishing tone. “I haven’t even had it on for five minutes! You have absolutely no patience, Genji Shimada.”

“I have never claimed to have it,” Genji says with a laugh, leaning in to kiss her as one hand wanders down, caressing the delicate curve of her ribs and the soft curve of her belly and hips. She meets his lips, hers smooth and velvet-soft against his scarred ones. She leans into him, her tongue licking at his lips, and he opens his mouth easily for her. From there it’s a warm familiarity as they reacclimatize to one another, her hands skimming over his body, one hand gliding up to cup his cheek. She smells like antiseptic and sunshine, and his hands run back along the nightgown, under it, brushing up her body and feeling it settle over the backs of his hands.

“Didn’t you learn any with Zenyatta and the Shambali?”

“They tried. I learned different things, but patience will never be my strong suit.” He grinned again, the expression still uncomfortable but slowly growing easier, especially when

They shift and wriggle, not really pulling apart from the kiss except for brief breaths, rolling together and relaxing into each other’s presence. His father and brother would be mortified if they saw this, especially when he realizes his joggers are gone and he is stretched out on the bed, limbs tangled together with hers. Naked and he didn’t even realize when. The laugh slips out, and Angela props herself up on an elbow, and the lingerie drapes over her in soft folds of transparent fabric.

“Something funny, Mr. Shimada?”

“Just a thought.” Genji reaches for her, and she makes herself comfortable up against him, one hand sliding down his body to his hips, while his wander over her and the satin and lace and net. It’s like she’s a half-wrapped present, something he’s sneaking earlier than he should have. He wants to unwrap all of her, except the wrapping paper is worth admiring, too. His armor is beginning to get uncomfortable, his cock pressing against the padded and plated cup, and he shifts slightly to try to find a better position.

“Do I want to know?” Angela pauses, tilting her head. “ _Should_ I know?”

“Nothing important.” He slides a finger over the satin and lace panties, cupping her mound. “This - and you - are far more interesting.” He winks, and she chuckles. Angela pushes at one of his hips, pushing him down onto the bed and rolling herself up over him, straddling his thighs. Genji draws in another breath, feeling his throat bob as he swallows. From this angle, the light makes the satin shinier and also somehow richer in color, and the dark pink does things against the black lace and her skin that makes his heart race.

“So. You had a rough day?”

“Angela, I do not want to talk about my day while you are…” Genji gestures at her, and she puts her hands on her hips, arching one eyebrow.

“While I am what?”

“Dressed in something I can’t decide if I never want you to remove, or if I want to rip it off of you to see what it’s hiding.”

“You know what it’s hiding,” she says archly, “and I spent enough on this that if you rip it off, I’ll be extremely cross with you.” A smile pulls at the corner of her mouth. “Though I think I’ve gotten my money’s worth, if it’s getting that kind of reaction from you.”

One of his hands runs up the fabric and cups one of her breasts, thumb brushing over where her nipple should be. His synthetics aren’t good enough to pick up on everything, but he’s sure he feels something harden under his touch.

“It looks good on you,” he says honestly. “Everything looks good on you, but this is going to do things to my self control that even a Shambali monk would not blame me for struggling with.” He lets his fingers graze across her skin. “Not to mention the boy I was who would have had _no_ self control, and torn this off of you immediately.”

“Going to?” She slides back, fingers reaching for the catches on his groin plate. His hand goes for her wrist, then freezes before he makes contact. She slides the plate off and he has a moment of relief as the pressure is gone and his cock is freed. Angela makes a pleased sound, and he chuckles, feeling the smile tugging again at his face. “It looks like it has. Past tense.”

“Oh, but I haven’t acted on those desires yet, have I?” He grins at her again and then flips her onto her back before she can do more than squeak, the net top splaying out to either side. He straddles her now, and his fingers move unerringly towards the ties between her breasts, then pause. He shakes his head - he likes this, and he’s going to bed her in it. He trails one hand slowly down to her underwear. She lifts up her hips obligingly, and he can feel she’s already wet as he eases the lace and satin off of her. His hands graze across her stomach, then lower, to the patch of golden curls between her thighs.

“Are you going to act on them, or just stare at me all night?”

“Is that an option? I might consider it, if it was.” He grins and winks as she swats gently at him, hooking her legs around his waist. “But it seems _you_ are the one with no patience, and only the urge to act on desire, tonight. Perhaps you should try some time with the Shambali-“

“Genji Shimada, if you do not get to the point right now, I will-“

He stops her by pressing forward, the head of his cock easing into her ever so slightly. She tips her head back and he can see her chest rising and falling with a quicker speed, and he can definitely see her nipples have gone hard beneath the scrap of lingerie. He loves this feeling, every time; it is a reminder of the body he’s in, the flesh beneath the machinery. She is almost wholly bare to him, soft and vulnerable. He presses in further until he’s deep inside her, and Angela reaches up to drag him down to her, pressing him against her chest.

“Better?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Better,” she says firmly, her heels digging into the armor. “Unless you have any complaints?”

“None at all,” he says with equal confidence, kissing her again. He doesn’t know how long he spends inside her, Angela rocking her hips against him and urging him harder, faster, deeper. Her pulse pounds and her skin goes a flushed pink, and he can see it easily. The view of her, almost-but-not dressed, keeps burning new tracks of desire in him. Angela’s fingers dig into the soft places between his armor plates and he can feel the way she clings to him. Their pace increases and he can’t resist any more, unfastening the pink satin bow at the front and peeling the halves apart slowly to bare her breasts. Genji drops his head to one and the other in turn, kissing and sucking on her nipples; they’re the pink of sakura most of the time, gone a darker pink-purple now. She arches up as he tugs gently with his lips on one, making a breathy moan.

They tangle in the sheets for some time - Genji can’t decide if it’s hours or minutes, but the scrap of a nightgown tries desperately to hold on, fluttering over both of them and shadowing Angela’s skin. At some point she settles on top of him and reties the bow haphazardly. He lets out a groan at the sight, one hand seizing onto her hips and driving himself into her, the other sliding forward to rub over her clit. Angela bends herself over him, tucking her head into his neck and crying out with pleasure; he can feel her convulse around him, and it’s enough to send him over the edge as well.

Spent, she drops onto his chest, and he kisses her lidded eyes, running his hands along her body above, then below, the lingerie. He cradles her against him as they pant in the aftermath, her body heavy on him with lassitude. They shift eventually, Angela sliding off him with a sound of resigned annoyance, before tucking herself back in beside him. “So it meets approval. I wasn’t entirely certain, you understand.”

“Me trying to take it off of you almost immediately wasn’t a clue?”

“You’re biased,” she says with a smirk, and he wraps his arms around her again, burying his lips in her hair, listening to her breathing ease as he lays beside her. “I need to get cleaned up so we can go have dinner.”

“You don’t need to. I can manage to bring a meal back here for both of us.” His fingers pluck at one strap. “Just as long as you stay in this.”

“What would you say if I told you I had another one?”

He freezes and looks down at her, and the impish smile on her face.

“I don’t know if either of us would make it out of here for a meal.”

“Then maybe I should save it for dessert.”


End file.
